Suicide hill
by Princesse Sarah
Summary: Snape commits suicide, but is saved just in time. Still in danger, he is placed under Hermione Granger's responsability her being Pomfrey's assistant . Romance in the air. Please read&review. Post Voldemorte's defeat, written before Deathly Hallows.
1. Chapter 1

The clock chimed once in the dark room, breaking the heavy silence. A tall figure was crouched over a book, seaming unable to sit up any longer in the leather armchair it was sitting in, giving in to exhaustion.  
Severus Snape heaved a sigh, closing the respectably thick pink-covered book. The usual queasiness and satisfaction he usually felt after having finished reading a masterpiece replaced by a strange feeling close to confusion. Severus stretched his long legs, throwing his head back, the book lying on his lap. He glared at it reproachfully, as if it were alive and quite aware of all the trouble it had caused. Printed on its cover was the close-up picture of a young girl's face. Her emerald eyes were slightly blood-shot and reminded Severus of a long-lost friend. The title ´The perfume' was embossed over the words ´The story of a murderer'.  
Severus tilted his head to the front, sinking into depression.  
Yes, like the book's main character Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, he had been rejected by society. Yes, he had once tried to flee those people before trying to step back among them. Yes, he had once wished he could be above them all, to teach them all... He sighed again.  
He had, however, stood up for himself than Grenouille, managing to create his own imposing, impressive, antisocial persona. But what use had it been? Today he felt lonelier than ever, useless, unloved.  
He closed his eyes and started day-dreaming.  
Would his life be any better if he'd got to wake up in a warm bed with someone there to smile kindly to him and wish him ´good morning'? To have a hug once in a while? To wrap his arm around someone's thigh while sitting comfortably on the couch, reading a good book? Of course it would. But some people weren't meant to be happy, and Severus had learnt that a long time ago...  
What was the use fighting everyday for a life he hadn't asked for anyway? He felt like an alien lost in a world he didn't understand. He had nothing to lose anyway, solitude being his sole companion. He had nobody to live for, his thrice damned father having never cared for him and the only friend he ever had was long dead.  
What about Albus and Minerva? asked a small voice shyly in his head. What about them? They'll be grieving a few days before they forget him totally. Or not.  
What-do-I-care? he repeated angrily to himself. The world had never had any compassion for him, why should he have any compassion for the world now? Sooner or later, he'd have to do it; he had come to the Point of no Return. No point putting it off for later.  
He heaved himself from his armchair, dropping his book in process. He didn't stoop to pick it up, but headed straight towards a large ebony cupboard. He flung it open, the door slamming on the wall beside, and started to search for a small vial hidden among all the headache drafts. Finally, he found the fragile recipient filled to the rim with an inky black fluid. Severus carefully took it out and before he could have any afterthought, brought the vial to his lips and up-turned it in one quick movement to swallow its content in one gulp.  
The substance's effects were immediate: Severus' hands stiffened and made him losen his grip on the vial, which shattered on the floor. He gasped and brought his hands shackingly to his throat. His eyes widened and his face lost the little color it had left. He fell to his knees, trembling uncontrollably. Dark blood started oozing out of his mouth, making him choke. He felt cold. His sight was a blur, the room spinning around him, his gaze unfocused. Lying on his side, he had the sensation he was falling very slowly into nothingness.

The world had gone black.

A few feet away, ´The perfume laid innocently on the floor.

Minerva McGonagal mixed up moodily some sugar to her oatmeal, sending bits of grayish glop flying around her bowl, but she didn't seam to notice. She was forced out of her thoughts and back to the present by a pleasant voice punctuated by mischief.  
´Minerva, do stop these avenging attempts on your breakfast, I dare say it has been punished more than enough for whatever sin it it has committed'.  
´Oh Albus, I just can't stand it any longer! Severus nearly never shows up for breakfast, when he's a head of House, for heaven's sake!'She pushed her bowl away from her so hard, it was sent off of the table and landed on a table below, making the students scream.  
´Sorry for that, Thomson', she called down over the roars of laughter coming from the other tables. Dumbledore's lips twitched. It was quite rare to witness Minerva losing control.  
´How in the world will he ever socialize?!'she retorted after acknowledging this ghost of a grin on the headmaster's face.  
´You know, Minerva, I'm not even sure he really wants to', he replied sadly. Minerva glared at him, too shocked to speak.

Minerva sat in an age-worned arm-chair, looking over a few essays, feeling too bad-tempered to grade them properly. It was quarter past nine before she heard students running down the corridor, whooping. She stamped to the door and violently opened it, shocking two first years that happened to be right in front of it.  
´Mr Barrows, Mrs Lyne, would you care to explain the reason for all this tantrum?' she barked at them.  
´Professor Snape's absent, professor, didn't you know?'  
´What do you mean?'  
'We've been waiting for ten minutes, but he didn't show up, so we-'  
Pushing them aside, she ran down to the dungeons, worried sick. Never, in nearly eighteen years of teaching, had Severus missed a class, even if he turned out to be gravely ill, or after a night spent being tortured by Voldmort and his followers.  
She knocked on the door, calling him, but got no answer. Losing patience, she drew her wand up from her sleeve and blasted the door open. The he was, spread on the floor, his face a deadly white, blood trickling down from his bottom lip.  
Panicked, Minerva ran to him and bent down on her knees besides him. She checked his pulse, and-relieved she could find one-noticed how feeble it was. His hands were ice cold. She had no time to lose.  
She stumbled to the fire-place, lit a fire and threw a green powder she had taken from a tin box on the mantelpiece at it. She called both Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, before rushing back to Severus. She felt the need to stay at his side, feeling this was a moment when he'll need her most. She'll be ready to comfort him the moment he'll regain consciousness.

Tears she had been trying to hold back started running down her cheeks while she gazed at that pale face, so serene, so still.  
She let out a sob.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione was sitting at a desk brought a few months ago for her personal use at the hospital wing.  
She stretched, stifling a yawn. Madame Pomfrey had left her in a rush after having received a message from the headmaster urging her to join him down at the dungeons, but she wasn't too worried. Probably another cauldron explosion or an experiment that went wrong. She was indeed more worried for what would happen to the unlucky students later on; causing mayhem on Professor Snape's territory had a price. Little did she know...  
She was surprised to see Dumbledore, Professor MacGonagall and Madame Pomfrey surrounding a single stretcher, on which laid the body of a thin, tall, white-faced man. It took her a few seconds to realize who was the unconscious person lying down. Truth finally hit her like a whip.  
'Professor Snape!' she shrieked and, pushing her chair beside, she nearly ran to the bed on which the potions master had been levitated. She came at MacGonagall's side, and, to her great surprise, the latter delicately took her hand and squeezed it. Completely flabbergasted, she barely took in the headmaster's words of explanation.  
´I'm afraid that all facts bring us to the conclusion that Severus here'-he nodded towards Snape's marble-white face-'has committed...has...has attempted suicide". The words seemed to have been torn from him. His eyes, staring unblinkingly at Snape had lost their usual twinkle and he had the appearance of a father standing besides his ill son's bed. He was putting in huge efforts in the restrain of his unshed tears, as if he had the obligation to set an example of courage to the others.  
Meanwhile, Madame Pomfrey was fussing about with a set of potion bottles, looking for what would be best to administer her patient first. Hermione remained beside the bed, completely forgetting for a while her role as nurse assistant. She spotted dried blood that had leaked from the corner of Snape mouth, and drops spattered all over his face, throat and chest. She pulled out her wand from her robes' pocket and cast a cleaning spell all over him and transfigured his dirty robes in a clean set of pajamas (black, no need to say). She placed her hand on his forehead; it was nearly ice-cold. She checked his pulse and was relieved to find one, feeble as it was. She noticed that Dumbledore and MacGonagall had left for the opposite side of the wing. Her heart shattered at the sight of her ex-transfiguration teacher weeping softly, a tartan handkerchief at the corner of her damp eyes. Dumbledore was trying to comfort her, but she only gave a quiet sob; Hermione felt like all hope had left her at the only time she witnessed the woman whom she knew had always kept a cold head in the most extreme situations lose control. She sighed, her face falling.  
Madame Pomfrey finally came back with a tray full of her selection of potions. She left the tray on the night-table and chose a little flacon full of a dark red liquid. Blood replenishing potion.  
'Professor Snape was already given an antidote back in his quarters', she told Hermione, noticing her puzzled expression.  
´So you knew what poison he drank?', asked Hermione, her tone relieved.  
'Well, maybe antidote is not the proper word to use...' the nurse replied sadly. 'The potion we made him drink down there made him cough out his blood... It seemed to be the only way to get rid of that thrice damned poison'.  
Hermione shuddered just at the thought of it.  
'Couldn't you just give him a bezoar?', she suggested.  
Madame Pomfrey smiled faintly.  
'You seem to forget who we're dealing with, Miss Granger. Professor Snape is one of the best potion masters in Europe, and in the present situation, I don't think he would've taken something he knew would have a cure so simple to find...The headmaster thinks the potion was a creation of his, unfortunately.'  


'Unfortunately?'  
´Yes, we fear that only he has the cure to it.'  
´But what if we used Legilimency? Or Veritaserum?'  
'Professor Snape is a renown occlumens-'  
'But in that state, you don't think he'll be able to-'  
'Miss Granger!'Madame Pomefrey's temper was rising at being interrupted. 'Professor Snape has used occlumency in states of great weakness against He-who-must-not-be-named'-why doesn't she use the damned name? He's dead already, Godammit! Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort!-´and will use it again if we try to use legilimency against him, which will only result in his weakening. As for Veritaserum, we don't have anymore in stock, the only person storing it being himself. His act was clearly well prepared', she finished bitterly.  
After giving Snape a blood-replenishing potion, Pepper-up, a strengthening solution and a dreamless-sleep potion (Hermione feeling awkward whhile she had to hold Snape upright for him to drink properly, while Madame Pomfrey fed him the remedies), both nurse and assistant conjured chairs from thin air and sat beside the bed.  
Snape's face was serene, and seemed nearly unreal without his usual sneer twisting it. He didn't look his usual imposing, sometimes even ferocious self. Or was he at last acting himself, after years of hiding behind a mask he had created to face society? What did you have to face all alone to come to this, Professor? Why did you hurt yourself like you just did? All hope for you isn't lost yet, see how many people cry you... You are loved, Professor, open your eyes to the warmth of the world you have been blind to, that lays right in front of you...But you stubbornly refuse to see it, or even notice it. You have the right to be happy...

Haven't you?

Hermione was brought out of her thoughts by a soft moan. Snape was still fast asleep. She was glad to see that he had regained a little color. Madame Pomfrey stood up and checked his temperature buy pointing her wand at his temple. She frowned.  
´What's the matter?'Hermione didn't like the nurse's worried look one bit.  
´His temperature's rising too quickly', she answered.  
´You don't mean-'  
´Yes Granger. Expect a high fever soon...It sometimes happens when one takes too many different potions in a short lapse of time'.  
´But we didn't have a choice', said Hermione, nearly outraged.  
´It happens nevertheless. If you're not happy with that, go and complain to the potions, Miss Granger'.  
Hermione didn't reply the sarcastic comment but went to fetch towels and a small hospital dish filled with cold water. She soaked the towels and twisted them before placing them on Snape's forehead. He was shivering by now, muttering nonsense under his breath. Hermione felt happy the hospital wing was empty, for Snape was needing both women's full attention.  
She touched his cheek; he was literally boiling. His breathing swallowed, he trembled harder, jerking his head from one side to another. Soon he was convulsing, his back arching violently a few inches from the mattress and landing back heavily with a thud, making the springs squeak.  
Hermione panicked.  
She tried to hold him to the bed, but he let out a high scream the moment she touched him.  
´HANDS OFF, MISS GRANGER!' barked Madame Pomefrey. Not used to the tone she had used and shocked by how Snape was reacting, Hermione stepped away from the bed, feeling helpless and on the verge of tears.  
´There, there, Miss Granger'; Madame Pomfrey had taken her friendlier tone back and walked 

towards Hermione, laying her hand on her shoulder to comfort her.  
'You must avoid touching him for the moment. His nerves are... over-sensitive and the faintest touch results in pain. There is nothing to do for the time being but waiting for the crisis to end.'  
Hermione nodded. Snape had calmed himself down a little. His convulsions were over, but his temperature was still high. He whispered weakly, and Hermione could barely make out his phrases.  
'Must...end...no...finish...enough...shan't...no more...' His breathing evened, his chest rising and falling more regularly. The whiteness of his face clashed with his black pyjamas. His face was sad to look at; it had the innocence of a sleeping young child. His dark hair was falling loosely at the sides of his head, a few locks falling over his brow. His mouth was slightly open. He turned weakly on his side and tried to snuggle back to the warmth of his bedcovers, with no success. Hermione pulled them over him and tucked him in, nearly tenderly. She remembered how weird it had felt to watch MacGonagall, who had long gone back to her duties with Dumbledore, cry. However, seeing what suspiciously looked like Snape's inner-child reappear didn't feel strange, but comforting.  
It was, after all, the proof that the fellow's human.

Hermione couldn't help smiling at the relaxed features of Severus Snape's face, and for the first time, noticed how graceful they were. He reminded her of a Chinese ink drawing. Madame Pomfrey left to fetch an extra blanket, and Hermione felt intimate with the man in front of her.

She made herself the promise to save him, no matter how.

She bent down...  
She was so close...  
Her lips met his, she didn't understand why, she only knew... She only knew...  
Suddenly, Snape seemed to respond feebly to her kiss. She sat up, blushing furiously.  
Snape muttered ´Hermione', gently, as if he was calling out for her, and stood quite still.  
Madame Pomfrey came back with the blanket. Hermione blinked, she felt like waking up from a dream.

'Anything wrong, Miss Granger?', the nurse asked with concern.  
'No! ... nothing...nothing', Hermione answered with a start. For all it was, maybe something was finaly going right in her life... All she had to do was wait and see.

Only time would tell her.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione and Madame Pomfrey managed to cure Snape in a few weeks, during which Dumbledore took care of his potion classes. Snape spend most of the first few days sleeping and was fed with nutritive potions. On the tenth day, he was able to eat solid food again. (Too) soon enough, he was fit enough to complain, which was an encouraging sign of his recovery. However, and to his great displeasure, the headmaster insisted for him to stay at the hospital wing, which resulted in a decrease of the number of students visiting the nurse; indeed, most of them preferred fainting on the spot or throwing up their guts in the bathroom rather than having to meet an extremely moody Snape.  
´Headmaster, couldn't I at least return to my quarters, if you please?'  
´Severus, we've talked about this before. You need rest, and you're not leaving-'  
´Dumbledore, I'm not a child-'  
´Then stop acting like one, Severus'. Dumbledore sighed. ´Severus, listen to me'. Snape, who had started pouting, his arms crossed upon his chest, barely looked up at the sound of his name.  
´I am willing to let you return to your quarters under one condition'; Snape focused his attention on Dumbledore.' Get out of your bed and walk to the door'.  
´Pardon?'  
´You heard me, Severus.'  
'Is that all?'  
'We'll see', said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.  
Snape heaved himself with difficulty (though he tried to hide it from Dumbledore) from his bed, and had barely walked clumsily a few steps that he fell unceremoniously to the floor.  
Hearing him falling, Hermione rushed with Madame Pomfrey from the latter's office. They let out a cry of surprise at the sight of Snape struggling to get back to his feet, tears of pain and humiliation menacing to fall. He refused Hermione's helping hand grumpily, pulling himself into bed all alone.  
'Really, headmaster!'Madame Pomfrey looked angrily at Dumbledore.' Can't I leave you a few seconds with a patient without risking an accident?!'  
´I'm not dead yet, Poppy', grumbled Snape.  
´You could've broken yourself an arm or a leg, Professor Snape, for heaven's sake!'  
´I'm not made of glass!'Snape raged. Behind his fury, Hermione sensed that he was hurt. Was it because of the previous accident? It wasn't easy to guess; everyone's aloud to trip once in a while...What is he so mad about?  
´I've made my point, Severus; you're not in condition to leave the hospital wing. Miss Granger?'  
Dumbledore had taken Hermione by surprise; she shot her head away from Snape's direction.  
´Headmaster?'  
'May you please follow me, I would like to discuss a certain matter with you.'  
She walked around the bed to join Dumbledore, staring quizzically at him.  
They walked out of the infirmary, Dumbledore shutting the doors behind them. As he turned to face her, his expression was grave.  
'Miss Granger, you are a clever woman. Surely you understand why I wouldn't allow Professor Snape back into his rooms.'  
Hermione had never given it a thought, but made a quick guess.  
'You think that he'll try to commit another suicide once he's left alone, don't you?'  
She found it hard to keep her voice from quivering. Memories from the day she sweared to herself she'd save him, her confused feelings for Snape, the kiss...  
Dumbledore's eyes seemed to X-ray her; he had confirmation of the sympathy the young woman had for her former teacher and perhaps a tad more than just that.  
´Miss Granger, I would like you to be Professor Snape's personal nurse.'  


Hermione was gob smacked.  
´Why?' she asked wearily. ´Why me?'  
'Professor Snape hates having to stay to long at the hospital wing. The poor chap prefers the comfort of his quarters. However, as I've just told you, he is not to be left alone, should he prepare another poison or other more sophisticated means to attend to his person. Madame Pomfrey will be much too occupied with the flu season coming. That leaves my choices limited to you, Miss Granger.' The corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile.  
Hermione, though she didn't look remotely happy, felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but wasn't sure why…

´No'.  
´Severus, please consider. You haven't even thought about-'  
'What is there to consider? Dumbledore, I shan't be treated like an infant, and that's that.'  
The headmaster and potions master stood alone, on Dumbledore's demand, in the ward. Hermione and Madame Pomfrey chose to use this time organizing students' files in the nurse's office.  
´Severus, nobody here wants to treat you like an infant. We wish you all to recover in the meanest time'.  
Snape sniffed disapprovingly. ´But of course, Dumbledore'.  
´Think of your students-'  
´I'm sure they've been worrying their heads off during my absence.' Snape's voice was heavy with sarcasm.' Surely I wouldn't like to cut short to the celebrations'.  
´Severus, please…'Dumbledore's voice was tired, plaintive…Severus sighed…  
´Who will be that nurse you were talking about, anyway?'  
´Hermione Granger', replied Dumbledore, promptly.  
Snape felt a jolt in his core; it was suddenly harder for him to keep an impassive face.  
´The… the Granger girl?' he stammered. Damn it, if Dumbledore notices anything…  
Severus Snape had always considered showing openly emotions as some kind of weakness… He had never loved, or for that matter, felt loved, though he had a fairly good companionship with Minerva and Albus. But he couldn't fool himself into thinking he never yearned such…intimate relations with a woman… Years ago he had loved Lily Evans, but the misery caused by her loss had wounded him more than all the torture sessions he had been through… He had never felt love for any other woman since then, mostly because nobody had had any feelings for him… any passion for him… But now… what wasn't his surprise when he had felt soft lips gently pressed against his…Miss Granger-no, Hermione- acted like nobody before, had made him feel more alive than he had felt in years… Suddenly the idea of having a permanent nurse didn't feel so bad… But he had to hide it as long as possible from Dumbledore. He isn't sure of what he knows or not, but he's stubborn enough to carry on the whole night long. Accepting too quickly would be a mistake; I need to hold on for a while and stop just before he gets tired of it. I have to make him understand by the end of the discussion that I'm fine with the arrangements, or else he'll have second thoughts about this…I shan't exaggerate…He'd realize it's all acting, he's not easy to fool.  
Snape took a deep breath.  
'I can't believe your leaving me in the hands of a trainee, Dumbledore', said Snape, eying him reproachfully.  
'Severus, you know as well as I do that it's only a matter of time before Miss Granger obtains her healer's license'; Dumbledore's voice was close to outraged.  
´And you'll understand that I value experience as well as pure knowledge. Excuse me for not trusting a youngster prone to experience…'  


´What experiences are we talking about, Severus?'  
Snape looked down, fixing a spot on his bed sheets. Bitterness seemed to radiate from him.  
'Surely you know, Dumbledore, that students studying to become healers take psychology courses. On their seminaries, they feast on depression and despair, for they fancy a challenge once in a while. I won't be surprised that Miss Granger considers me like a tempting hors-d'oeuvre, a more instructing subject than any her school might provide her…'  
Dumbledore chuckled.  
´Really, Severus, hearing you, I'd think we're discussing dementors. Trust me, it's not Miss Granger's type to abuse somebody in search of knowledge'.  
Realizing he might've been a little tactless, Dumbledore cleared his throat and carried on:  
´Sincerely, Severus, I really think you'll be in good hands with her.'  
Snape heaved a sigh, careful not to sound too exasperated.  
'If you say so, Dumbledore, I'll have to take your word for it'. Dumbledore's face cracked into a grin.  
'Excellent. I'll go tell Miss Granger at once'.  
He left Severus's bedside to announce Madame Pomfrey and her assistance about Snape's decision.  
He came back a few minutes later to explain the necessary arrangements, such as the addition of a room in his quarters, to Snape.  
´Well, I'm happy you've finally come to reason, Severus', said Dumbledore gleefully. Snape sneered.  
´It's getting late, we'll move you down tomorrow. I'll leave you to rest, Severus'.  
´Finally'.  
'Goodnight, Severus'.  
´Goodnight'.  
Dumbledore walked to the door, still smiling as he exited the hospital wing.  
Alone in the dark, Severus Snape couldn't help it.

He smiled too.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Saturday, Snape was taken to his room on floating stretchers. The potions master had insisted for the operation to take place early enough for no student to spot thim in this state, which meant just before 8 o'clock, as it wasn't a week day. Being a proud man, he couldn't bear the thought of the children he had worked so hard on scaring seing him so weak; it would melt the myth about him being barely human completely.  
Hermione walked beside him the whole while, resisting the temptation of taking his hand. She was the one using wingardium leviosa on the stretchers and found it harder than usual concentrating on the spell, for a million questions sprouted all at once in her mind: where would she sleep? How will Snape act with her? Will they end up having a friendly relationship? Or more?  
She usually slept in a small room hidden behind a tapestry old tapestry featuring the four Hogwarts founders in the hospital wing. She felt completely OK about it, even though it didn't have anything special about it. The furniture was quite formal, the walls painted in white and the only decoration was a painting of several pretty women wearing white dresses standing by a riverbank. She wouldn't mind leaving it at all; the women of the painting were starting to nag her, anyway.  
Professor MacGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were following close behind. They didn't talk during their small journey to the dungeons; Professor Snape was laying inert on the stretchers, his slightly opened eyes out of focuse. As predicted by Madame Pomfrey, going back to his quarters was a tiring affair for the potions master.  
They arrived in front of a tapestry of a huge silver serpent on an emerauld background; the words Magistrus cupidi were embroided in silver thread above the snake's head.  
Dumbledore walked past Hermione and whispered the words Emerauld orbs. The snake on the tapestry slythered to the bottom edge, hissing; a large hole appeared, just two feet over the ground. Dumbledore walked to the side to let Hermione and Snape enter first, followed by MacGonagall. Hermione gasped.  
The room had no paintings. A beautiful forest green carpet was covering most of the living room floor. A black couch was set in front of a fireplace which mantelpiece was made of black marble on which were graved two large snakes. In a corner was a large ebony elaborate desk. The walls were covered in books, most leather-bond, of every size and shape.  
They finally arrived to Snape's bedroom. The room was midnight blue, and a great tapestry with a huge silver 'S' covered one of the walls. Beside it was an enormous wooden cupboard decorated with two large ´S' and silver handles. A marble matlepiece which looked very much like the one in the living room stood a few feet behind a large four poster bed with green silver ebroided hangings and bed covers. Beside the bed was a large ebony night table with graved does on the side. A forged metal lamp laid upon it.  
Hermione hurried to levitate Snape off the stretchers and into his bed while MacGonagall lit a fire; the chill in the room was enough to make the hair on the back of Hermione's neck stand on its end.  
Snape was asleep and very pale. Hermione reluctantly followed Dumbledore, who insisted upon showing her her new room. It was slightly larger than her former one, decorated in crimson and gold (because, as said MacGonagall, it would be relieving to escape all this Slytherin background once in a while), with a large four poster bed. Her trunk had been settled before her bed. She felt relieved that there wasn't any painting of pesky pretty girls.  
She came back to Snape's bedroom. Dumbledore gave her a nursing kit full of little potion bottles, also including a sthetoscope and the book Curing for the clueless: 101 charms for everday nursing. He and MacGonagall wished her luck and, with a last handshake, left her with her patient.  
Snape laid inert on the bed. His breathing was regular, but his forehead felt cold. Hermione bent over the nursing kit for some Pepperup when she heard a sneaze that made the door rattle 

in its hinge.  
´Uuugh...'Snape had woken up. His black eyes were rolling into their sockets; he looked groggy.  
´Good morning, professor'. Snape turned his head towards the sound.  
'Her...mi...oneee...' Wait... has he just called me by my surename?  
It took Hermione a few seconds to come back to the present.  
'Professor, what would you like for breakfast?'  
´Can't...eat...'  
´Professor, I'm afraid you caught a bad cold, no wonder, it's freezing down here.' He glared at her for criticizing his chambers. No use upsetting a patient. Think of something nice to tell him, quick!  
´Uhm, I love your bedroom, nice furniture.' He raised his eyebrows, suspicious.  
'Professor, I can't give you any medicine without you eating before'.  
´Fine with that', he muttered.  
'Professor, don't play that game with me.'  
'You take life for a game, now, Miss Granger? How very optimistic of you.'So it was back to Miss Granger now, was it? Fine.  
'Professor, don't try my patience. Either you eat something now, or I stun you right away and put you on perfusion. Your choice.'  
Snape looked as furious as his state would permit it.  
´How dare you-'  
'How dare you imagine you're unloved!' Hermione was on the verge of tears. ´Did you see how Professor MacGonagall cried-'  
'Since when did I mention living for the other's sake?' his voice was hoarse, angry. ´All my life's been dedicated to the others, never to me, who'd care if-'  
´Didn't you listen to-'  
´You've got a lot to learn, Miss Granger. There are things you can understand just by experience, which you still lack of, I'm sorry to say. Minerva Lionheart only feels pitty for me. Poor Severus, why did it have to end like this? I can't live out of pitty, Miss Granger. Not anymore.' Snape's eyes were colder than ever, and nearly made Hermione recoil.  
´Don't you think that the people around you feel something else for you than pitty?'  
´You mean hatred?'  
´You know what I mean.' Hermione was getting exasperated. I'll leave you ten seconds, Snape, and then it's the perf'.  
´Breakfast cereals and fruit juice.'  
´Pardon?' said Hermione stupidly.  
´I believe you asked me a while ago what I wanted to eat. Good gods, Granger, if I knew you had such a short term memory, I'd be quite afraid for myself.' Hermione giggled.  
'Cereales and juice it is, Professor'; she walked to the fireplace to leave an order to the kitchens, asking for two servings, having not eaten breakfast.  
In next to no time, a house elf named Wizzles apparated in the room with a loud crack, balancing a large tray with two bowls and two glasses of orange juice. Hermione hurried to help it, taking the tray from her with a smile.  
She placed the tray on the night table and handed his bowl to Snape. He reached for it, his hands shaking, and bearly managed to fed himself to a spoonful of cereales.  
´Professor, would you like some help?' Hermione tried to be as diplomatic as she could. It didn't stop Snape from snearing at her.  
´Really, Miss Granger, I was under the impression of disposing of all my facult-'  
´Whoops...' Snape's grasp on the spoon had lessened, so that it splashed back into the bowl. Hermione hastedly cast a cleaning spell and took the spoon from Snape without asking for his 

permission. She filled it and point it at Snape's mouth. He didn't open up. She brought the spoon closer, closer still. Snape refused to open his mouth. Hermione sighed. She didn't wan't to have to come to this, but he left him no choice.  
'Come on, Sevy, open for the plane to land, viuu!Aaaaahh!!', she said in a sing-song voice. Snape stared blankly at her.  
´Miss Granger, stop this-' Hermione took her chance and shove the spoon into Snape's mouth; he was taken by surprise and swallowed at once. He choked and coughed, and when he finally regained composure, grumbled sourly:  
´Alright, Miss Granger, I'll let you feed me, Goddammit, but I beg you to stop that idiotic routine of yours.' Hermione smiled. For a moment she felt like she had scared Snape, something she considered like a personnal achievement.  
Hermione fed Snape until he couldn't eat more (which ment half a bowl) and convinced him to finish his glass of juice before she could at last give him his Pepperup. After that, he fell immediately to sleep, all the morning's action having tired him quite a lot. Hermione took profit of the moment by having her own breakfast. When she had eaten the last bite and drained her glass, she returned to her musings about Snape. She thought about the kiss, and felt disapointed he hadn't talked once about it while he was awake. Maybe he doesn't remember...  
Meanwhile, Snape replayed in his dreams the romantic scene Hermione and he had shared. It seemed to have happened so long ago, years from now... He knew the young lady had feelings for him, and that he wasn't indifferent to her. But how would she react if a man who could be her father expressed his... was it love? Snape shook himself inwardly; no, no, no, it could not do to call this love, for it was, for the moment, only pure desire...Animal magnetism...Yes, he was just responding to her call because of her good looks, and perhaps a little more...  
It wouldn't do.  
Not him.  
Not now.  
Never.  
But why? Was he refusing his key to happiness?

Severus Snape tossed and turned in his bed. Hermione came beside him and held his hand. He felt so weak, physically and mentally speaking, but yet so strong at her touch...

This was going to be difficult. Moreover, the way things were going with Hermione, he would have to mention...Sooner or later...

Later.  
What she didn't know couldn't harm her. He'll see how things turn out, then he'll have a choice, wether to tell Hermione or not.

My last choice.


	5. Chapter 6

Snape slept until lunch. By then, Hermione had ordered something light for both of them. She woke him up only when Wizzles had brought the tray, for she always felt quite nervous when it came this. Professor Snape gave a start and raised when Hermione spoke his name, but certainly did not shine. Hermione didn't want to tempt luck with phrases like 'carpe diem'. Her previous performance with the 'little plane that's gonna crash here he comes' routine had taught her a lesson: Snape didn't like kiddy stuff. On the brighter side, he let her feed her without complaining, and that was a start.  
After they'd finished eating (potato salad with an apple), she wanted to ask him a question she had longed to since the day he had first arrived to the hospital wing.  
She took a deep breath.  
'Professor, would it be okay for you to follow a therapy with me?'  
She knew she had better be direct with him; going straight to the point was better than turning around the subject with Snape. He had little patience and would be quickly tired after a few pointless questions such as ´may I ask you something?' or ´would you please do something for me?'. To her surprise, he chuckled.  
´Miss Granger, you are so predictable. And to say that Albus insisted on you being different. He only managed to fool himself more...' Hermione watched him, confused.  
´I see you're failing to understand my meaning, Miss Granger. Could it be that after all these years, I've misjudged you? Was I wrong to call you a know-it-all?' He grinned in a weird, devilish way. Hermione felt a little diminished; Snape's words seemed to insult her intelligence. It would not do. Nevertheless, she let him carry on, her curiosity getting the better of her.  
'You'd like to achieve your psychological tests with me as your subject, don't you, Miss Granger?' She nodded.  
´You think it be more...original...subtle...sophisticated... having a patient that has attempted suicide than a woman depressed from her menopause, or a child suffering from rejection, don't you? Don't you, Miss Granger?' He tsked. She looked outraged, he was merrily disgusted.  
'How?' she looked as if she was about to cry. 'How can you say such a thing?'  
'Face me, Miss Granger, and tell me that it wasn't what you had in mind.'  
´MY FIRST PRIORITY WAS TO CURE YOU, YOU HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE MAN!!'she spat out, tears leaking on her cheeks. ´But you know what? Maybe I don't give a damn for you after all! Maybe I should think a bit more of myself, and not waist my time on ungrateful bastards such as you!'  
Hermione stood up and stomped out of the room, without a backward glance to Snape, who was completely stunned.  
He mastered legilimency, and therefore knew Hermione had been honest. He shifted himself up a little to listen to the wall behind him, careful not to make any sound. Hermione was in her room. He heard her muffled sobs. She must be crying in her pillows. Snape felt guilty for having made her cry. Why? he asked himself. It wasn't the first time it happened. He had made her cry the day Draco had given her those fangs... And countless times during Potions... Why did he feel bad now?  
Because, you imbecile, even though you have treated her horridly, she still cares for you... Or cared for you... said a little voice in Snape's head. Congratulations Severus, you've pulled you final straw with the ladies. See now if you can find somebody else... Perhaps in the next twenty years or so, you jerk.  
He hadn't meant to hurt her. Maybe if you stopped acting like a victim, it wouldn't have happened. But he was born a victim. He had always felt like a victim. Have you once in your life tried to behave otherwise? If only you could smile, even when there isn't anything 

specific to smile about.  
He wanted to go to her, hold her, tell her how sorry he was, how he acted like a complete idiot and maybe add a few words of comfort here and there. But he could barely move, let alone walk to the other room... He didn't want to call for her, for he was certain she would not come. He had no choice...  
Shaking, heaved himself into a sitting position, so that his feet touched the floor. He tried to stand up, but only fell back on the bed. He put his hands on the night table for support and pushed himself up. He immediately grabbed the door knob and held on to it, trembling. He staggered to Hermione's door and caught the door knob, but didn't open the door. He had the courtesy to knock three times, a difficult exercise in his case.  
Hermione hadn't expected Snape to come, or even be able to come. Frowning, she asked herself whether it was Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey or maybe MacGonagall who was standing at her door and tried to make herself (and especially her hair) more presentable while walking to the door.  
As she opened the door, Snape's knees gave in and he fell to Hermione's feet. She gave a little scream.  
´Professor! What are you doing out of bed!'  
'Hermione...' Snape sounded breathless. 'I'm... I'm sorry... Acted like a cretin...'  
She bent down beside him and took his chest and head in her arms.  
´Professor, it's okay, I'm sorry I called you a bastard.' He opened his mouth to contradict her, but she hushed him. 'No, Professor. You're not a bastard. You don't deserve to be called one, you deserve respect. And as for my demand, it was completely tactless to ask you right away, I understand your reaction'.  
'Hermione, I tried to suicide myself weeks ago. You didn't ask me right away'; she smiled weakly. He smiled back.  
´Lets get you back in bed, Professor.' Hermione lifted Snape to his feet and was surprised by his lightness. She brought him back to his room and shared her concern with him.  
´Professor, I know your disease has made you lose weight, and that you have always been a slim person, but-' Snape raised his hand for silence.  
´No need to say more, Miss Granger.' He heaved a sigh and looked tired, older than she had ever seen him. ´I... Hermione, I have a secret to share with you. About the poison I used.' She stood silent, wishing to catch every one of his word .  
´The potion I drank is an invention of mine. A mixture of poison and a special aging draft I created. I had it ready to use for ages, waiting for the moment to come. I predicted Minerva and Dumbledore's intervention, I knew a regular poison wouldn't suffice, therefore the aging draft.'  
'How does it work?' asked Hermione.  
'It ages your body, but leaves your physical appearance the way it is: no wrinkles, no grey hair,... In other words, it makes you rot from the inside. Nearly impossible to notice, let alone to cure.'  
´So that's why we couldn't cure you, all the time you've spent at the hospital wing...' Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face. She started to think quickly and hard, like if she was attending a hard test. Then it all came to her. The answer was there, dancing naked in front of her.  
´Professor, why do certain people live older than others, or are fitter in their old age?' Snape looked surprised at being asked such a question and gave Hermione a now-is-not-the-time look. She carried on.  
´The answer is simple, Professor: they act young. Lots of people live older nowadays because they never stopped living the way they did when they were youngsters: they listen to the same music, wear the same clothes, eat the same food,... Well, you get the picture...'  


´Miss-Hermione, that would be a wonderful plan, if it weren't for this little flaw: I've never been young. I don't know what it means to be 20 years old. I've spent my youth under the orders of a tyrant during a war. Do you know what organizing torture rounds by the age of 18 turn you into? You don't think about fooling around, buying cheap beer with your friends or going out on dates!'  
´Well Professor, it's my pleasure to announce you that from now on, you will. You can bet that, by the end of the year, you'll be back in the groove, Severus. No, Sev, it sounds better. Don't mind if I call you Sev, do you?' Snape looked gob smacked, but didn't object.  
´Good, Sev.' The look on Snape face made her want to burst out laughing.  
´Permission accorded, if I get to call you 'Mione'  
She giggled. ´You're on.'  
Snape had gained a little energy during their talk. He wanted to ask her something, but it was so daring... But it was she that had started the whole thing...  
´Mione?'  
´Mhh...'  
'You do have feelings for me?' She flushed. Yes...  
'I suppose I do, Professor', she said, avoiding his gaze. He took her chin with his hand.  
´Would you like to... take a little nap with me... in my bed...'  
She wrapped her arms, slowly, around his thin waist. He pulled her to him, and, ever so gently, their lips met.  
They kissed passionately, holding tight to each other, both sharing the same thoughts...

Yes...


	6. Chapter 7

Hermione woke up early next morning, and was treated to a sleeping Severus, who, to her great surprise, was smiling. She sled slowly and quietly from his grip, so as not to wake him. Dear,who would've guessed he could look so peaceful…  
She decided not to waste her time and to start working on her correspondances. She felt quite guilty not having taken some time to write to Harry or Ron, who must've been sulking for the last two weeks. Harry had written in his last letter that he had been in a bad mood for the last few days, and even though Harry had tried to explain again, and again, and again, that Hermione had been busy with Snape, Ron remained surly and was muttering about why she wouldn't do them all a favour and let him die in his bed if that was what Snape really wanted.  
Harry and Ron were both studying Defense against the Dark Arts in a specialised school in Romania, sharing a room at Charlie's place. Hermione shuddered at the thought of three men living alone with no female presence to remind them about a wonderous notion passing under the name of hygiene . Last time she had come to visit, just before Snape's attempt to kill himself, she had found mounds of dishes levitating over the full sink and Ron wondering if they should buy some more. Pitying them, Hermione cast a cleaning spell on them and magicked them to their respective place only to have Ron telling her in an exasperated tone that he had been just about to do it and that it wasn't her job to do their chores, as she was the guest. Hermione had been about to throw him a snappy retort when Charlie had caused a diversion by apparating in the house with his shirt on fire. Later that night, after she had applied murtlap essence on Charlie's burns, Hermione was granted yet another one of Ron's annoying speech about why Snape shouldn't be considered as a war hero, which started to annoy even Harry, who had heard it at least two dozen times ever since Ron got wind of it by his father from the ministry.  
Sometimes, Hermione asked herself when Ron would grow up… Or whether he even would… She was happy about Harry starting to grow respectful about Snape after all both had been through, and setting aside old stereotypes inherited from his father since he learnt about his mother's and Snape's friendship. This proof of his maturity made Hermione feel proud about him, which was the least she could say about Ron. She once caught herself thinking why on earth she had remained friends with him all along. She sheepishly thought about all the good times she had spent with Ron, about his social background, his bravery and his sense of humor. She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes… She knew that even though Ron was one of her best friends, he wouldn't handle gracefully the news about Snape and her. However, she didn't want him to feel left out in case she only told Harry, or to lie to him by telling him that her life was as dull as his ex-pet rat Scabbers. What if you only wrote to Harry and ask him not to tell Ron ? He'd understand, a nasty little voice whispered in her head. What was wrong with telling Ron only the official version of the facts? He deserves the truth? He can't handle the truth!  
Hermione withdrew a piece of parchment from the desk in her room and settled herself comfortably on the couch after lighting a fire. She had taken one of her books for support, and after sucking the tip of her quill, she carefully opened her tiny ink bottle and dipped the quill in it.  
Dear Harry,  
Sorry I didn't write for long. I've been very occupied for weeks, as you probably figured it out if you've heard the latest news by Dumbledore or Lupin. If you haven't, Snape has committed suicide and was only just saved by MacGonagall and Dumbledore, but he's still weak, and I've been chosen to take care of him during the next few weeks. He had poisoned himself with a draught of his invention, which makes your body grow older and older, and even if he was rescued from death, the potion is still effective. He's doomed, Harry, and the worst is that nothing, no potion whatsoever could save him. He's been planning this for weeks, and was planning to make another attempt as soon as possible. Fortunately, I've 

figured out how to cure him, which brings me to telling you something I don't want you to tell Ron. Whatever you do, DO NOT TELL RON. If he's anywhere near you, just figure out something, whatever it takes to put him off trail. Destroy this letter afterwards; you never know with Ron.  
Harry, I've been bursting to tell somebody, anybody, about a little something. Well, I'll try to get to the point. I have feelings for Severus, and I guess you understand what I 'm talking about. Nothing serious, no … Well, you know, sex… It's just Platonic love, and I think that's how it's going to stay. I feel so happy with him, and I know what you're thinking, but everything's alright.  
This brings me to write about the cure. The only way for him to get better is to make him act young. He has bad memories about his youth, so it's not going to be easy, so I'll try my best for him to enjoy himself.  
I hope you three boys are okay, and remember to clean up the house every month or so.  
Love,  
Hermione  
She read her letter again in order to check her spelling and was quite satisfied with herself. She yawned, walked to the chimney and ordered for some breakfast. When she turned back to the couch, she found that her letter was missing.  
"Platonic love. Feelings. My , my, how intimate you are with the Potter boy." Severus' soft voice came from a dark corner of the room. Hermione gasped.  
"I have the right to write whatever I want to my friends. Give this letter back."  
"Not where I'm concerned, no." Snape looked at her with a mocking smile on his face. "Come and get it, if you wish so, but I won't let you have it back", he said sleekly.  
Hermione was furious. She shot her wand at him and shouted "Accio letter!" and caught the letter in mid-air. She cast hastily a clothing charm and ran out of the room; hurrying up the dungeon's stairs and to the owlery. She sped up the steep stairs and realized Snape was following her, shouting after her. He was dressed in his potion master's robes, which were billowing behind him. He had trouble catching his breath, which worried Hermione. But this was not about Snape's privacy, but about Hermione's. She had to show him that she deserved as much respect as him, and sending this letter would be a perfect lesson Snape had to be taught at least once in his life.  
She arrived at the windowless tower, caught the nearest owl and told him shakily "bring this to Harry, he's in Romania!" But just as the owl was about to take off, a white hand grabbed it by the talons. Snape was as pale as death, and the owl's pecks and scratches caused him to let go off it. He stammered "no", and staggered to one of the owl-free shelf before fainting.  
Hermione panicked; dark blood was starting to drip from Snape's mouth and he was slightly trembling. A small boy had just come to send an early letter to his parents, and was shocked at the sight of Snape, seemingly dead, and Hermione, who had tears pouring from her eyes.  
"Go fetch Madam Pomfrey, anyone, run, RUN!"  
He didn't need telling twice, and next second he had left the tower, his letter laying forgotten on the floor.  
Hermione went to Snape's side and held his hand. "Everything's going to be be alright Severus, hang on, please, just hang on…"  
She sobbed.


	7. Chapter 8

Severus was sent right away to Saint Mungo's hospital for magical injuries after Dumbledore came to examine him up in the owlery. After checking Severus's pulse, blood pressure and breathing, he understood that his state was critical and that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be able to handle him alone. Hermione accompanied him aboard the Hogswart Express, which had been magicked to high speed for the occasion. During the short journey, she couldn't manage to tare her gaze from the man she now knew she had feelings for. She managed to utter explanations to Dumbledore and very soon, she couldn't contain her pain anymore and was crying her heart before him.  
He patted her hand in a fatherly way.  
"Miss Granger, it wasn't your fault. Severus had no right to-"  
"Of course he had! I had… I didn't understand… I exposed his weakness to…" She gave a sob.  
"Miss Granger, he didn't… Well I suppose he didn't want to stop you from sending this letter to Mr Potter for these reasons… You see, he was afraid Harry would've come to speak to him if he had got wind of his attempted suicide."  
Hermione looked at him quizzically. Dumbledore sighed.  
"Severus loved Lily, and always considered he was responsible for her death. He thought that he was the only one to blame."  
"But that's not true!" said Hermione, scandalized. "There was also Peter Pettigrew, and-"  
"All the same, he set his mind on the fact that he was the only one to blame, as he was the one who ran to Voldemort after having witnessed Professor Trelawney's prediction."  
Dumbledore smiled at the look of outrage sketched on Hermione's face.  
"Has he ever given himself a little credit for all the help he's provided to the Order?"  
"I don't think so… He's always been very modest and perhaps a tad selfless too. This brings me to answer your thirst for knowledge about Severus." Hermione felt herself going pink; Dumbledore's smile broadened.  
"Feeling Harry's eyes upon him comes back to feeling Lily's eyes… He thinks that if Harry came back to show him support after he tried to commit suicide, he'd be looking at him in a way which would suppose understanding, or maybe friendliness… He'd refuse to have Harry looking at him like this, because his eyes remind him too much of Lily's eyes… And he considers he deserves nothing less than Lily's loathing."  
Hermione looked flabbergasted.  
"But I always thought he was horrible to Harry because of his father! Do you mean to say that for all these years, he acted unfairly just to have Harry hating him? Wouldn't he feel better if he saw-"  
"I know what you're thinking of, Miss Granger, but there's no telling Severus he needs to be nicer to Harry. You must understand that he couldn't stand seeing Lily's eyes, happy and kind, just as they were when both were still best friends, he wou-"  
Severus groaned. He tried to roll on his side, without success. After fidgeting a little, he laid still upon his stretchers, dozing under thick blankets. Hermione checked his temperature by feeling his forehead, and found him quite cold.  
"Excuse me, Headmaster, will it be long 'till we arrive? I'm starting to doubt we'll make it in time…"  
"Well, miss Granger, if you'll kindly step out, it's only a matter of minutes now."  
And so it was.  
Hermione was amazed at how quickly they'd arrived; she'd spent half an hour on the train with Severus and Dumbledore, whereas the usual journey takes nearly all day. A group of qualified healers were already levitating their patient out of the train and bending gravely over him. One of them took out a breathing device out of his bag and placed it upon Severus's face.  


"Muggles use these too, you know", piped up Hermione. To her surprise, the healers laughed heartily.  
"Sure, they use stuff which look like these, but ours work by magic, little lady." The man grinned. Hermione looked stonily back at him, making his smile fade a little.  
"Hum… May you explain exactly what happened?"  
Hermione told them about Severus's invention, its effects, about how she had tried to cure him, …  
They stopped by a bright yellow ambulance, and the stretchers were levitated upon a bed nailed to the floor. Hermione made to join Severus, but was held back by a healer.  
"Staff only, madam."  
"Oh. But I-"  
"I know you where his private nurse, madam, but it's all for the best. Professor Snape has got to be checked out by the gang"-he nodded towards the healers-"just to make sure nothing's been overlooked."  
"But this isn't an usual curse, and I've been looking after-" Hermione had been pushed aside by a small, over enthusiastic , young wizard. She glared reproachfully at him, coughed on purpose, but there was no attracting his attention. She noticed his hungry eyes, seemingly hypnotized by no other than Albus Dumbledore. The healer standing in front of Hermione sighed in an exasperated fashion.  
"John, you've done it again! Apologize to the lady, you nearly made her fall!"  
"Sir, it's him! The real Dumbledore!" The second healer sighed deeply. It looked like it wasn't the first time John acted like a complete yahoo… Hermione decided to use this at her advantage.  
"Why don't you ride along with the Headmaster, Mr. John, sir, and leave me your place in the ambulance?" John looked delighted, and turned his head pleadingly to the healer next to Hermione. His boss looked thoughtfully at him before saying: "well, I guess it would be okay just for this time". John grabbed his boss in what was supposed to be a loving hug, and ran off to find his hero.  
Hermione climbed into the ambulance and gave the healer a "what's-his-problem" look. He pinched the bridge of his nose before answering her unasked question.  
"John is a big fan of Dumbledore, always has been. He always gets over-excited even when it only comes to having a quick glimpse of him. I'm sorry he may have been a little rude with you, but, you know, it's his heart's desire-"  
"I think I get the picture." Hermione smiled weakly at him, and turned back to face Severus. The ride inside the ambulance seemed to take forever, and his pulse was getting weaker all along. When they finally arrived to the hospital, they levitated the stretchers through the back door of the rickety old store; instead of the ugly dummy was an old castor oil commercial with a pretty nurse holding a silver spoon full of medicine. She turned her head to the healer, and asked in a smug tone "password?" The oldest healer muttered "wolfs bane", and the nurse giggled annoyingly, reminding Hermione of the silly girls in the painting of her old room. The commercial faded away, leaving a hole large enough for them to pass. Severus was brought to a gloomy room smelling strongly of curing potions. In the middle stood a big steel bed with white sheets, under which he was slid. Hermione threw the heavy covers he had been wrapped in over him, and grudgingly walked out of the room to leave him to the healers. She waited, waited with Dumbledore, the minutes creeping by… After what felt like an eternity to them both, the head-healer came out of the room; his face clearly showed he had no good news for them.  
"Miss Granger, Professor Dumbledore, I'm afraid we're going to have to use… drastic means to cure Professor Snape"  
"Dra-drastic means? What do you mean?" stammered Hermione. The healer looked away 

from her. He seemed to be building up the courage to tell her what he was about to do.  
"We're going to have to bleed him, Miss Granger… The poison is weakening him and there's no antidote we know of that would be able to save him. We don't have much time left. We need to get the potion out of his blood, and-"  
"But you'll kill him trying!" screamed Hermione, horrified.  
"Not if we use a stasis charm on him first, and feed him blood-replenishing potions during the operation. I won't lie to you by saying this is a risk-free procedure, but I'm afraid our choices are limited, very limited." Hermione looked on the verge of tears. The healer decided to carry on with the explanations.  
"We'll first use a stasis charm on his heart for it to stop pumping the potion in his body, but don't worry, that won't kill him!" he added hastily. "Then, we'll proceed by using a stasis charm on his limbs to stop his blood circulation, and bleed them one by one, using each time blood-replenishing potions each time we've finished with a limb. When we'll be finished, we'll use "enervate" on him to wake him up, and voila, you'll have him as good as new!"  
Hermione looked very green in the face. She turned on her heels, grabbed the back of a chair, threw her head forwards and vomited on the floor; Dumbledore quickly vanished the pool of sick and pulled her back on her chair. She still looked ill, and he slid out of the way just in time to escape a second serving. Hermione's eyes flew upwards and she fell on her side, bushy hair covering her face.  
It took a few seconds for Dumbledore to realize she had fainted.


	8. Chapter 9

All was red. Scarlet. Black. Hermione felt her stomach lurch. She wasn't sure how much she could stand. But at last, there he was! Severus had his back turned to her. She ran to him, reached for his arms, but he turned curtly before she even touched him. Somehow, his robes had disappeared. Deep cuts were trace upon his chest, dark blood was oozing from his lips, his eyes were glassy,… He stuttered words Hermione could not understand, and fell back. He landed spread-eagled on the floor and moved no more.  
Hermione let out a terrible scream. Her breathing was shallow and cold sweat was trickling down her face. She realized she was in a hospital bed and relaxed slightly.  
"Nightmare, Miss Granger?" said a familiar voice. Dumbledore was facing her serenely.  
"Professor, how's Seve- I mean, professor Snape?"  
"Now, now, Miss Granger, I'm sure you know I know about how intimate Severus and you have become; you may call him by his surname." He took a deep breath before carrying on. "I shan't hide from you that Severus' state is critical. He's too weak to talk, even though the healers have managed to reanimate him. If you feel strong enough to walk to his room, we may leave right-" Hermione had already swiftly rolled out of her bed and was walking quite steadily to door. Dumbledore grinned at her stubbornness to remain near Severus.  
Hermione gasped as she entered the now brightly lit emergency room. Severus laid inert on the bed and looked like all the blood had been drained from his body. He reminded her of an action movie she had seen on tv, during which the main character had to visit a morgue. Severus slowly opened his eyes and painfully turned to face her. Hermione felt her heart tear at the sight of his weak form; the proud being she once knew gave the impression of a man on his deathbed. In barely more than a whisper, he uttered "Her-my-o-o-o-nee…" His voice fainted away. He was trembling a little, and looked very cold even though he was draped in what looked like half the hospital wing supply of blankets. A healer bent over him and feed him a pale turquoise potion which Hermione recognized as a strengthening solution.  
"We have given him nearly all the available stock of blood replenishing potion, Miss. He ought to be all right. We managed to empty him from the potion-"  
"As well as his blood", said Hermione, her voice heavy with sarcasm.  
"Miss Granger!" said Dumbledore, unusually harsh. But Hermione wasn't listening to him. She had spotted John, who looked somewhat uncomfortable.  
"Is something wrong, Mr. John, sir?" asked Hermione suspiciously. His cheeks flashed red like a cherry.  
"No! I mean, er, no, no, no, why should anything ever be- DON'T TOUCH ME!" Hermione looked ready to pounce on him, and he made it to the door, running down the corridor. Hermione aimed a biding spell at him, and caught him menacingly by the throat, looking murderous.  
"What have you done to my Severus?" she hissed. John was starting to weep like an over-grown baby; far from softening her, the sight of him disgusted Hermione and she shook him hard, his head banging against the floor.  
"It wasn't my-my idea", he sobbed. "Your friend, Mr. Ron Weasly, accidentally saw the-the letter you had sent to Harry Potter. He heard that you and Sn-Professor Snape had come here after Mr. Potter received the letter from-from Dumbledore saying you were going to need his support in case… in case things went wrong… So Mr. Weasly came to see me and promised me to give me a hundred galleons if I found a way to… to…" John wailed. Hermione could only muster enough self-control to stop herself from punching him. John cried for a minute or so, and carried on.  
"So I-I-I added… I added an extra ingredient in the blood replenishing potion, not in all the pints, so it wouldn't work properly, and-" Hermione let go off him and sprinted to the emergency ward, found Dumbledore, explained to him what she had just heard from John, and turned to one of the healers. Time was running out, and they had to act fast.  


"Do you have a lab?" Hermione asked curtly.  
"Excuse me?" answered the chief-healer, dumbstruck.  
"Son of a-A LAB, GODDAMMIT! UNDERSTAND ENGLISH?" Hermione looked slightly mad, her bushy hair surrounding her now scary face. The healers stepped back.  
"Upstairs, Miss, er, Granger". She hurried to the staircase, Dumbledore trailing her.  
"The potion will take approximately an hour to make, but it's tremendously complex, Headmaster, I'll need your help", she told him in a slightly gentler voice.  
"At your service, Miss Granger."  
They arrived, panting, in the hospital lab, and quickly gathered all the ingredients they'd need and Hermione place the biggest cauldron she could find upon a conjured fire. They started chopping, pruning, powdering the ingredients and adding them to the boiling water. After an hour, they found themselves sweaty, exhausted, but glad about their achievement. The potion was ready to use. They speeded back downstairs to find the horrifying sight of Severus convulsing on his bed, with four healers restraining him by holding his arms and legs, while another was trying to force down his throat a clear potion.  
"Stop! We have it! We made it! We have the blood replenishing potion!" exclaimed Hermione.  
Still terrified by their last encounter with her, the healers rushed to the walls of the ward, anxious to get as far away from her as possible. Hermione ignored them and followed a bee-line to Severus. She dipped the contents of a vial in his ajar mouth and closed it. She heard him swallow and looked relieved.  
"Headmaster, may I ask you to look after Severus, please?"  
"Where are you going, Miss Granger?"  
"Paying a visit to an old friend, Headmaster. Just give him one vial every half an hour, and it'll do."  
Dumbledore hesitated and looked like he would stop her, but he looked straight into her eyes instead and whispered "Just do as your heart sees fit, Miss Granger. You're a big girl now, and I can't stop you from making decisions anymore. I expect to see you later. Don't worry, Severus is safe in my hands."  
"Thank you, Dumbledore".  
Hermione went out of the ward, walked out of the hospital, a determined expression on her face. Once outside, she checked out for muggles, and, seeing none, she turned on the spot and desapparated.  
She apparated before the front step of Charlie's house rang the bell and waited, whispering to herself, her eyes lit with fury.  
"Ronald Weasley, you will pay, I swear I'll make you pay."


	9. Chapter 10

The door remained closed. Hermione tried Alohamora on the door knob, but nothing happened. She heard voices behind the door, people speaking in quick, quiet voices. Raging, she slashed the air with her wand, crying "Stupefy!", blasting the door open. There, right in front of her, stood Ron and Harry. Harry immediately conjured a shielding charm, while Ron was cowering behind him. Never had they seen Hermione with such loathing in her eyes. The air around her seemed to crackle, and she looked like a bull ready to charge. Her breathing was shallow and, beyond her angry tears, her colossal feeling of sadness was noticeable. For a moment, nobody moved and the only noise was that of Hermione's panting. At long last, Ron peered above Harry's shoulder, behind which he was crouched.  
"Hermione, I know right now you must be thinking that I'm the bad guy or something, but wake up, I know something's wrong-"  
"All this time I've lied for you, worked for you, got you out of trouble..." Hermione's voice was low and dangerous. It sounded so much like Severus', it almost scared Ron.  
"Hermione, you're not being yourself! Wake up!" pleaded Ron.  
"...You've used me, Ronald, you've never loved me, you've never respected my decisions, either when I was with Victor or with Severus... You used me like a doll, like if you had control over me, as if..." Hermione felt her heart pounding against her chest, and tears were now flowing down her cheeks, but she didn't bother to restrain them any longer. "You've made him suffer... you wanted him dead... you're no better than a Death Eater to my eyes now, Ronald!"  
"Hermione, calm down! What the hell are you talking about?" Harry turned to Ron, and when he saw him staring guiltily down at his feet, murmured "you didn't...", comprehension dawning at last.  
"I'll teach you the meaning of pain, Ronald!" she shrieked, and at this, she whipped her wand towards Ron and, looking slightly crazy, yelled "Crucio!"  
"Hermione, no!" Harry pushed Ron aside, but he didn't have to, for a wheezy voice cried "expeliarmus " and sent Hermione's wand flying away. She turned to find Severus, supported by Dumbledore, pointing his wand at her hand.  
"Get away from her, you bastard!" shouted Ron, feeling braver now that his opponent was a half-dead man.  
"Mr. Weasly, you have attempted to murder Professor Snape, might I add in such a revolting way I'm starting to wonder whether you really belong to Griffindor, so please, I must ask you to remain silent." Hermione had never heard so much rage and contempt in her Headmaster's voice, and maybe Ron noticed too, for his face showed no trace of outrage, but only shame.  
Dumbledore carried Snape in his arms with surprising strength, and lied him down on the sofa, his expression solemn. He called for the boys to leave Hermione and Severus alone, following them outside. Ron stopped just as he was about to leave the house, lifted his head towards Hermione as though he was about to apologize, but turn back at the sight on the fury flaming in her eyes.  
"Hermione", whispered Snape feebly, "I had to stop you from cursing him... you soul isn't yet as stained as mine."  
"Why didn't you stay at Saint Mungo's, Severus?" asked Hermione quietly. "You knew you were too weak to leave..."  
"I'm dying, Hermione... Nothing could've saved me, so you can't blame Mr. Weasley..."  
"Pity."  
"Hush, child", said Severus, but there was glee in his half opened eyes. "Don't go thinking like that. You're too innocent yet... I wanted to tell you, whatever you may have thought, I cared... I loved you..."  
"I love you too, Sev..." Hermione sobbed.  
"Now, now, don't cry, my angel, not now, not now..."  


"I guess it's time for goodbyes then, Sev."  
"Remember, 'Mione, say goodnight..." Severus closed his eyes with a sigh.  
"Not goodbye..." Severus' hand, that had been held by Hermione, thudded to the floor, when she reached for him for a last embrace.  
A few years later, Hermione didn't quite remember well what happened next; her memory seemed to have become all fuzzy like a badly broadcasted tv channel. She remembered Ron's apologies (which she roughly accepted), Severus' funerals (which next to no-one attended to), but most importantly, the vial Dumbledore had given her as Severus' last gift. It came with the message "To remember me", written in a spiky, cramped writing.  
Hermione was brought back to earth when she realised she was nearly late.  
"Come on, Sebastian, time to go to school!" she called out of her small kitchen.  
"Coming mom!"  
And there came Sebastian Snape, rushing down the stairs, his long greasy black hair falling over his hazel eyes in quite a handsome way, pulling on his black jacket, ready to start a new day.

THE END


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